


Keep Running

by Chemical_Kid



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Killjoys, M/M, Mentions of Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 19:04:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1910253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chemical_Kid/pseuds/Chemical_Kid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ghoul has to work on fixing up Poison, but both Killjoys find that there are some things you just can't fix.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep Running

Poison bites back a scream as he feels the alcohol sink deep into the gunshot wound on his shoulder.

He doesn’t do a very good job of it though, because a strangled groan still manages to escape his mouth and Ghoul whispers a quick “sorry, I’m sorry,” before pulling the soaked cloth away. He douses it in more alcohol before pressing it back to the wound, and this time Poison does scream.

He sees Ghoul flinch and instantly yank the cloth away, shaking his head.

“Poison, I can’t do this. I can’t—”

“Yes you can. You’re doing just fine. I’m just being a baby.” Poison tries to smile, but it comes out as more of a tired and forced curve of his lips.

“I can’t, I’m hurting you. Jet and Kobra were always better at this…” Ghoul props his elbows on his knees and lets his head drop to his hands, raking his fingers through his thick tangled hair.

“But they’re not here anymore,” Poison nearly chokes on the words, feeling the tears sting his eyes before he even finishes the sentence. “I know Jet showed you how to do this a few times, and God knows how many times you’ve watched him do it. You _can_.”

Ghoul sits back up from his hunched position and locks eyes with Poison, almost like he needs a moment to process the words and convince himself they’re true. Eventually he just nods and picks up the cloth again. Poison does a better job of hiding his reactions to pain as Ghoul cleans the wound, for his sake.

A little while later, as Ghoul is stitching him up, Poison’s mind travels back to what he’d said earlier. Kobra and Jet were gone. He didn’t know what his and Ghoul’s next move was. Should they find a new crew? Work to avenge their old one? Give up all together? Poison wasn’t sure how he could keep running if he didn’t have the ones he loved most running with him.

So he says something.

“Maybe it’s time to stop running.”

Ghoul freezes, keeping the needle positioned to where he was about to thread it through Poison’s skin.

“Why would you say that?” Ghoul’s voice is barely a whisper, sullen hazel eyes looking up at Poison through strands of greasy black hair.

“We’re alone. BLI’s taken everything from us. It’s—there’s nothing to keep going for.”

“There’s always something to keep going for. I thought that’s why we did this.” Ghoul mutters. He looks back down and continues stitching up Poison’s wound.

“That’s what I thought, back when I knew it was true. Things are different now.”

“How so?”

“Well, you know, there used to be four of us.” Poison spoke bitterly.

Ghoul went silent. He finished stitching a few moments later, tying the stitches off with a small knot. Once a roll of bandages was carefully wrapped around the wound, Ghoul began to pack the medical supplies back into the small first aid kit they’d found in the Trans Am. It was stuffed in the glove compartment in front of the passenger seat, where Jet always sat. It was so much like him to take those kind of precautions, and the two would've laughed if it hadn't hurt so much to know they'd never see him take those precautions again. Hell, they even missed the lectures he'd give about how important it was.

“Thank you.” Poison says softly, watching Ghoul set the small bottle of alcohol back in the white plastic container.

“Sure thing,” Ghoul replies simply, shutting the lid on the kit. His hands linger on the container for a moment before he turns to Poison. “Were you serious about quitting?”

“What?”

“When you said there was nothing to keep going for. Do you really want to quit being a Killjoy?”

Poison stares at the man across from him for a long moment. His mind seems to go blank, knowing there are several possible answers to give with good reason, but he can’t seem to spit them out. He wonders what Kobra would say to him if he was here. Probably something like “ _I don’t know, big brother. Just don’t be so whiny about it_.” Poison almost laughs, but then the realization that he’s never going to hear his little brother’s voice again hits him like a ton of bricks. So, in the end, he just shakes his head and looks away from Ghoul.

“I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”

Poison feels Ghoul’s fingers lace between his a second later. Ghoul squeezes ever so gently, and Poison squeezes back, almost as if it’s a silent understanding; a secret between the two that no one would ever know. He brings Ghoul’s hand up to his mouth so he can kiss each of his tattooed fingers, lips warm and gentle against the skin. When he looks back up at him, Ghoul’s crying, and before he can wipe the tears away Poison brings him into his arms.

The two sit there in silence, and Poison’s shoulder kind of stings, but he keeps his focus on Ghoul. He’s not sobbing, just letting his tears fall silently; Poison feels them against the bare skin of his neck where Ghoul’s buried his face. Poison just holds him, feeling absolutely helpless because he’s not sure what he can do or say to help. They were so tired, so scared, so _broken_. There was nothing he could say to make any of that alright.

“Nothing’s okay anymore.” Ghoul says.

Maybe, Poison thinks, nothing ever really has been.


End file.
